


In Memoriam Tales

by TwinEnigma



Series: In Memoriam Verse [12]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Future Fic, GFY, Gen, Grandchildren, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Major Original Character(s), NaruSaku - Freeform, Naruto being Naruto, Next Generation, Not The Last Compliant, Old Friends, Old Sakura is a legit badass, Parallels, Team as Family, Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto Friendship, sasukarin, stealth crossover cameos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-20
Updated: 2009-08-20
Packaged: 2018-07-11 12:33:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7051645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwinEnigma/pseuds/TwinEnigma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Through time and generations, Team Seven has left it's legacy and considers their own pasts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Salad Days

**Author's Note:**

> This story is designed to be read coherently either in the order presented (1 to 9) or starting with chapter 9 and working backwards to the 1st.

            Shuu was always a bit of an odd girl.  She prayed for the souls of those enemies they killed and spent a lot of time watching butterflies.  Occasionally, she’d mangle an idiom completely or stare blankly at something, as though she had no clue what it was.  Sometimes, she would give people a long gaze and she’d frown, but it was almost as though she was staring beyond them, at something unseen.  In many ways, she seemed like she’d come from another world and just happened to like it in Konoha.

            Raisei never paid it much mind but, then again, he’d never been able to read people well.  Whatever had happened to his family had nearly destroyed him and it had taken years before he’d allowed anyone to get close enough to fill in the gaps, let alone know what had happened to him.  And then he’d gone and run away, shattering their fragile team at the seams.

            Shuu would never forgive him for that.

            She’d gone home after Raisei left, back to Wave to help with her father’s business.  She’d seen no point in sticking around with Minoru training and Raisei gone rogue.  Occasionally, she’d send letters – silly things about red dragonflies, learning new techniques and asking how things were – and Minoru treasured them dearly.  As much as Shuu was an odd duck, she was one of his closest friends and he missed her.  Yet, he knew she was happy and getting stronger, so he was glad for her.

            Three years passed and finally, Minoru managed to catch up with Raisei.  They fought, tore each other half to pieces, and somewhere in between the bloodied knuckles, bruised ribs and fractured limbs, Minoru managed to finally get through to their wayward teammate.  He was the only one that could, really – Minoru was tenacious and had a habit of changing people for the better just by being himself and not giving up.  Everyone said he was like his grandfather that way and it was true – he was just like the sixth Hokage, Uzumaki.  He believed in his ability to beat some goddamn sense into that prick and everyone else believed in his determination.

            In the end, Minoru dragged Raisei back home, hoping beyond everything that his words stuck fast.  They both spent a month in the hospital recuperating and Minoru’s father lectured his ears off more times than he could count about how stupid and irresponsible he’d been and what was he thinking?  But he knew, more or less, that his dad knew why he’d gone off like that – Raisei was his friend and he may have gotten away three years ago, but Minoru wasn’t going to give him a second chance to run off and do something even more stupid.  Shinobi who break the rules may be trash, but those who abandon their friends are worse than that and Raisei had desperately needed a reminder of that crucial lesson beat into his skull, because that’s what friends do.

            He and Raisei argued again in the hospital when he came around, years of pent up rage coming off.  Yeah, and he learned all about that shit that went down in Raisei’s childhood and why he’d run off like he did.  Raisei may have had a shitty past, but he had friends now who would always have his back and the stupid jerk didn’t realize that all he’d had to do was tell them and they’d have trained their asses off just to help him put his ghosts to rest.  And, jeeze, running off to join up with a jutsu-addicted cannibal - talk about stupid ideas of how to protect your friends!

            Honestly, Raisei may have been smart and the number one rookie as a genin, but, _goddamn_ , that had to be the stupidest idea Minoru had ever heard of.

            They left the hospital better friends than when they’d stumbled in.  Then Raisei asked about Shuu and he’d insisted on seeing her, so it was off to Wave.

            Shuu nearly put Raisei back in the hospital when he tried to apologize for leaving and then healed him, saying it was the least he’d deserved for doing what he did.

            Some of Shuu’s odd habits made sense after that visit: her parents were certainly quite strange for a pair of shopkeepers and Minoru was left wondering how they ever sold anything.  They’d given him the oddest looks when he’d said he was interested in buying Shuu another skull-shaped good-luck charm for her gear – she’d told him how much she liked them when they were genin and it really wasn’t that strange to want to do something nice for her, was it?  Then, they pounced on him, demanding that he promise to keep an eye on her and never to regret things.

            Shuu spent weeks after that apologizing for her parents behavior, but Minoru supposed he didn’t mind so much – his own parents had done far worse to the teammates of his older sisters.

            Years passed, he and his teammates rose to jounin. 

            Raisei finally found his peace, having avenged his family, and worked hard to build himself a new future.  Oh, he still didn’t get things at times and his attitude was as surly as it had ever been, but he had definitely mellowed out and left that angry brat he’d used to be behind.  He still did stupid shit sometimes, the over-protective neurotic bastard.

            Minoru achieved his childhood dream of becoming Hokage.  He’d swore he’d get there, that he’d uphold and protect his grandfather’s legacy and now, there he was – the ninth, latest successor in the line.  The future of the village was now his to decide and that was kind of terrifying. Then, the white coat with the red flames came from the tailor, with his new title spelled out on the back, and an old folded note from his grandfather, congratulating him on making it.  Minoru had laughed and laughed after that – the goddamn old fart knew he’d make it someday and, even though he’d died back when Minoru was still a genin, he’d made sure that he could still say something about it.

            Shuu was still an oddball.  Her parents had left and moved the shop to warmer climes, or so Shuu was fond of saying.  She had taken over the inventory they’d left and moved it to Konoha, but it almost seemed like she never sold anything either, as she was always closing shop to go on missions.  She didn’t mind, though, saying her parents served only a select clientele and they only stopped by once in a blue moon. 

            Every once in a while, the three of them would sit down and drink.  He’d threaten to put Raisei in ANBU if the bastard wanted to protect him so bad, under his oldest sister’s command (and man, Tsubaki would eat Raisei for breakfast).  Raisei would call him a moron, as usual, and beg off ANBU, because he liked being a jounin better.  Shuu would sip her sake and giggle madly, suggesting that Raisei be given some genin to corrupt, and he would sputter and laughter would ensue.  Sometimes, Shuu’s gaze lingered too long on them on those nights.  And then she would smile and Minoru knew everything was all right.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minoru draws a very deliberate parallel to Naruto and his teammates to Team 7.
> 
> Minoru's name is written as 實 or truth/reality, which alludes to both his tendency to be true to himself and his general nature.


	2. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The more things stay the same, the more they change.

            When Raisei finally allowed himself to be dragged back to Konoha (his pride refused to let him admit he’d lost), the first thing he noticed was how much things had changed and how certain things had stayed exactly the same.

            Konoha stayed the same.  The hospital was still that same sterile white and student medic-nin bustled back and forth with the same routine they’d always seemed to have.  Most of the shops were in the same places, staffed by largely the same people.  He bought dango from the same woman he’d bought it from as a small child and she smiled the same vacant smile she gave all her customers.

            There was a kind of reassuring and welcoming feeling in that sameness, that he could just pick up where he’d left off and nothing would be different.  But that, he knew, was a lie.  It would not – no, it could not be the same.

            Minoru may have been taller and hit harder, but at first he still seemed basically like the same kid that had been getting into all kinds of mischief as a genin.  The more he paid attention to his ex-former rival and friend (he really didn’t know quite where they stood as friends anymore), the more it became clear that he had changed.  Minoru had matured, his cleverness and enthusiastic optimism tempered with wisdom and insight.  His tactics were still similar – powerful, hard-hitting move combos and switching around with shadow clones, but there was a new element, an element of refinement and speed, that became rapidly clear in sparring.

            Minoru had been holding back during their fight, deliberately refusing to go the whole nine yards.  He’d sure looked provoked enough during the fight, like he had as a kid, but to maintain control and remember to target to incapacitate an opponent trying to goad and kill you?  Minoru wouldn’t have been able to do that before.  No, Minoru had definitely changed.

            Shuu had changed the most.  Gone was the little dreamy-eyed girl who’d tripped over her own feet while chasing butterflies.  She’d been replaced with a lethal, cat-like young woman with a temper and an eerily graceful way of moving.  She’d never forgiven him for leaving, a fact she’d made painfully clear by smashing his face into the dirt when he’d finally spoken to her.

            Sure, she patched him up afterwards, but he’d never been more aware of how much he’d written her off until he was kissing dirt.  She was like a completely alien thing to him now and he’d watched her warily while she fixed his face.  The little girl he’d known would never have been able to smash his face in and put it back together like that.

            He was learning new things about his old teammates every day since he’d come back.  Some of them were amusing – like Shuu having a tattoo, something he’d never have pegged her to be the type to get – and some were scary in an unreal way – like the way Minoru fought when he wasn’t holding back.  Sometimes, they still looked at him like he was going to bolt at any moment, but he didn’t.  He knew that the both of them would bring him back and, this time, Shuu would do a lot worse than just dislocate his jaw.

            They said he’d changed.

            Raisei didn’t know if he’d changed or not.  He still felt the same.  Maybe he had changed and he’d just never noticed.  It was a lot easier to say that everyone else had changed, leaving him behind with his demons, than to say that he’d changed in any way.

            He picked up his new forehead protector, one that was styled to cover his head like a handkerchief, and smiled.

            Maybe it was time he changed after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raisei is the parallel to Sasuke. Unlike Sasuke, he is not so completely consumed by his vengeance that it nearly destroys him.
> 
> His given name alludes to his element (thunder) and a star or mark, while his surname (Suzunoya) refers to a house of a small bell or buzzer.


	3. Oddity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuu was weird. But she was okay with that.

            Shuu was always considered odd by normal ninja standards, but she’d always known that.  Her upbringing had been less than traditional, after all, and her parents had never been considered typical.  They hadn’t been surprised when she showed an interest in fighting, but they had been surprised when she’d chosen to go into the Konoha Academy instead of staying home and learning the styles of her parents.  It shouldn’t really have been that much of a surprise to them – she knew their training styles were a bit, er, _odd_ to say the least.

            So, her mother brought her to Konoha, registered her in the Academy, and rented a small apartment there, while her father stayed in Wave and continued to run the family store.  Sometimes, he would visit them during the year, the unmistakable sound of his geta clacking loudly on the stairs to the apartment.  Most summers, they would go home to Wave and she would spend the time working in the store or trying to get dragonflies to land on her hand.  She would often tell her father about all the things she’d done while she was away and explain stuff like jutsu and chakra to him when he asked about it.

            Shuu didn’t always say things right and not everything at the Academy was the same as it was back home, much to her embarrassment.  But she was a good student, read all the books and was the fastest kid in the whole Academy every year to her mother’s delight.  When she finally graduated, her father joined them in Konoha and her parents toasted her success together.

            The next day, her father asked, “What do you plan to do now?”

            She told him she planned to stay.

            He smiled pleasantly, as though he’d known all along, and asked if she wanted him to put her forehead protector on her favorite hat for her.

            Later that night, the sixth Hokage died and, by morning, everyone in the village knew.  He was one of the greatest heroes of their nation and the grandfather of one of her classmates, the prankster and all-around class-clown Minoru.  She knew her classmate adored his grandfather beyond words and was always sneaking out of classes to go and spend time with him.  She’d seen them both at the ramen stand, chattering away from time to time.

            “It must be hitting him hard, this friend of yours,” her father said, taking off his striped bucket hat.  “I’ll take you to go see him.”

            They walked together in the direction of her classmate’s home – Shuu in her mourning clothes and her father in a black kosode and black hakama, his usual geta exchanged for tabi and hemp sandals.

            Finally, she spotted her classmate up on a roof and her father merely smiled, nudging her in the direction of the boy as he headed towards the front door of the house.  Shuu nodded in determination and bounded up to the roof.

            Minoru sat there, staring off at the Hokage monument in the distance.  He didn’t look up at her or acknowledge her presence, so she simply sat down next to him.

            “I miss him already,” he said at last, breaking the silence.  “He was supposed to be invincible, you know?”

            Shuu nodded.  She’d heard a lot about him.

            There was another long silence.

            “He liked pranks, didn’t he?” Shuu asked, fidgeting.

            Minoru laughed.  “Yeah! They say he defaced the monument as child and fled all the jounin and ANBU in the village for hours before he allowed himself to be caught.”

            “Let’s do it,” Shuu said.  “Let’s give him a send-off prank.”

            The boy stared blankly at her for a moment and then slowly broke into that familiar cheeky grin he got before he did one of his pranks.  He stood and then pulled her to her feet, saying he knew where they kept lots of paint and all the rope they’d need to pull it off.  Then they were off, dashing across roofs towards places only her classmate really bothered to explore, and on their way to getting in huge trouble.

            They spent the better part of an hour painting every face on the monument except his grandfather’s and then collapsed in a heap at the top.  They both knew, sooner or later, someone would notice and they’d both be in heaps of trouble, but Minoru no longer seemed to be so sad and that was good in Shuu’s book, since he just didn’t look right without his smile.

            As they sat there, Minoru suddenly pointed.  “Hey, look at that butterfly, Shuu!”

            A great white butterfly was fluttering through the air towards them, its wings glowing in the darkness.

            “I’ve never seen one like that,” the boy said, watching it with interest as it circled closer.

            Shuu hummed, fingering the skull charm on her hair tie.  “They say butterflies are the embodiment of souls.”

            “Really?” he asked, as it landed on his head.

            She nodded.  In the shadows of the tree line, she could see her father watching, out of breath and leaning heavily on his cane.

            Minoru smiled and then gasped, startled as the butterfly suddenly vanished.

            That night, she knew, unquestionably, that Minoru would become Hokage one day and that she would follow him.

            ...Of course, explaining that to her parents was a horse of an entirely different color.  In the end, it had been another three years before her parents finally understood why she’d follow the grandson of such a troublesome soul.

            Minoru did anything he believed he could.  He made her believe she could do anything she could, even pass training with her parents.  He brought back Raisei, their infuriatingly tragic but much missed teammate, when no one else could (and indeed, Shuu had some choice words with said infuriatingly tragic sop when he finally got the stones to apologize for his absolute stupidity).  Minoru had that same gift his grandfather did – the one that inspired the best in people.

            “Hey, Shuu,” he called, from the corner of her parent’s shop.  “Is this candy?”

            Shuu kicked him, square in the back of his orange and black jacket.  “Don’t eat the merchandise, you idiot!”

            “Man, so cruel!” he moaned theatrically.  “And I even bought you another one of those luck charms you like!  Though, I can see why your mom and pop were surprised – skulls aren’t exactly that popular.”

            Yeah, Shuu knew she was odd.

            But, then again, Minoru was hardly a normal ninja either and that made all the difference.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shuu writes her name as 舟 or "boat". She parallels Sakura in that she is not from a ninja family and is sort of the brains of the outfit.


	4. Middle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hasuka hated being in the middle.

            Being the middle child was the _worst_ and Hasuka Uzumaki knew this like she knew the sky was blue.

            Her older sister, Tsubaki, was a genius on a fast track for ANBU.  Everybody always talked about how smart she was and how gifted she was as a ninja and boys were always going out of their way just to impress her.  Tsubaki was _hot_ and Hasuka was just the cute kid sister.  Not that Tsubaki _ever_ noticed, but still... Everything was so easy for her!  She made everything look effortless and everyone kept comparing the two of them, as if she was supposed to be just like her older sister.

            Her younger brother, Minoru, was a pain.  He was always bugging her and he wouldn’t leave her alone.  He kept goofing off and playing stupid pranks.  He ruined her things, made fun of her friends and then ran and cried to their parents when she hit him for it, even though he really, really _deserved_ it.  He was such a spoiled brat.  Hasuka had no idea why everyone was so nice to him.

            Hasuka was all awkward and gangly, with skinned hands and knees from climbing trees, pink hair and a huge forehead.  She studied hard and worked at making herself presentable.  She didn’t cut classes or goof off.  When she was bullied, she didn’t go crying to mother and father – well, at least she didn’t anymore!  She was too old for that now and she could take care of herself.  And yet, no one really paid any attention to her at all.  She was just Tsubaki’s little sister, the cute little tomboy with the annoying little brother.

            Being the middle child meant just that – Hasuka was always stuck in the middle.  She wasn’t a genius like Tsubaki and she wasn’t a slacker like Minoru.  She was always in-between them and it was like being stuck in a tug of war. 

            She’d been trying to get out from between them for years, but it wasn’t until her grandmother passed away that she really began to break free of them.

            Grandmother had doted on Hasuka more than she did with her siblings.  She would show her pictures from her youth and Hasuka was always startled by how much she resembled her Grandmother as a girl.  They had the same pink hair and broad foreheads, though Grandmother’s had long since become white.  Even the way they smiled seemed so similar.  Grandmother had laughed and said that she believed Hasuka had inherited her will of fire with her pink hair.

            It was funny seeing those pictures from long ago.  In them, Grandmother had been a vibrant young kunoichi, who looked so carefree, and Grandfather had been a short little boy with a mischievous fox-like expression, heightened by the whisker-markings on his face.  Papa’s father, their teammate who had died a long, long time ago, lingered in the photos with a sullen expression, and Hasuka could see that he was where her father and little brother got their looks from.  They were kids, like she was now, and they had become the three most powerful ninja of their day.

            Hasuka wanted to do that, too.

            The day of the funeral had been rainy and cold. Grandfather didn’t say much the entire time and Minoru, who idolized him, clung to him like a leech as though it would somehow prevent Grandfather from disappearing, too.  Mama kept crying into Papa’s shoulder, which was so strange because Mama never cried, and Tsubaki stood like a ghostly, red-headed statue, silent and unreadable.  A lot of people came to pay their respects, including the previous Hokage, Sarutobi, and the current Hokage, Kimagazaki.

            Standing over Grandmother’s grave, Hasuka swore she’d be stronger and become a kunoichi Grandmother would have been proud of.  For a moment, she was sure she’d seen Grandmother standing there, smiling at her in approval, and then a blond, shabby-looking monk walked past the grave, tipping his ridiculous striped hat low as he passed to tend other graves, and revealed the empty space where she had imagined her to be.  It was then that it really hit home that Grandmother was gone.

            Hasuka was a big girl and big girls didn’t cry, but she wanted to.

            The funeral ended and people drifted away, until it was only their family, a few of Grandmother’s close friends and the black-garbed monks that tended the graves.  It was quiet now, void of the eulogies and awed praise of the village, and Hasuka was suddenly very aware of how big the graveyard was.  There were so many markers!

            All of a sudden, Hasuka had a very strange feeling, like she could feel someone looking at her.  It was like a prickling sensation on the edge of her mind or an itch that was just out of reach.  She hesitated, turning her head in the direction of that feeling, and noticed a boy with glasses lingering on the edge of the graveyard.  Had he been here for the funeral?

            Before she could ask, Papa gently shook her shoulder and told her it was time to leave.  She slipped her hand into his and looked over her shoulder for the strange boy again.  The monk in the ridiculous hat was speaking with him now. Hasuka sighed and let her father guide her back to her waiting family.  She supposed she’d have to ask that boy later.

            The trip home was spent in silence and the rain left everyone chilled to the bone.  Mama served them all hot tea and warmed some sake for the grown ups.  All around Grandfather were clan heads and council members and, if Hasuka looked _just so_ , she could see traces of how they once looked in Grandmother’s old photos.  They did not begin to speak until they were well into their cups and then they spoke without care, jibing and loudly jeering at each other about old misadventures.

            When Minoru’s face lit up in awe at the tale of how Grandfather had once defaced the entire Hokage monument, evaded the ANBU and allowed himself to be caught by his Academy instructor, Papa gave Grandfather and the elders a scolding glare. One of them, Great Auntie Ino, loudly proclaimed that Papa should not make such a face, as it made him look like his father, who had always looked rather constipated in her opinion.

            Grandfather laughed, the aura of sorrow around him lifting just a little.

            Mama then shooed them off into the kitchen, saying she could handle things here.

            Tsubaki disappeared into her room to change, announcing that she was going to go train for a while, and Minoru kept trying to sneak back into the sitting room to hear more of the stories.  It was kind of comical to watch, since he was trying so hard to be sneaky and Mama kept catching him.   Everything about him was so _loud_ and _bright_ and it was always a wonder he was able to get away with as much as he did.  It wasn’t subtle at all.

            Tsubaki was subtle.  Sometimes, she would creep out Hasuka with the way she made herself so hard to notice, but it was always creepier when Tsubaki made an effort to be noticed.  Then, her older sister made the hair on the back of her neck rise.  There was something inherently cold and frightening about Tsubaki when she was like that.

            Something prickled on the edge of her senses and Hasuka shivered.

            Papa gave her a curious look and turned his head to the left, in the same direction that she’d felt uneasy about.  “Hasuka,” he started suddenly, “How did you notice that boy in the graveyard?”

            Hasuka blushed.  “I don’t know.  It’s like I felt him looking at me.”

            “It felt funny, didn’t it?” Papa said, “Like an itch in your head.  And just now, there was something weird, wasn’t there?”

            “Yeah!  How’d you know, Papa?” Hasuka asked.

            Papa smiled a little.   “You’re sensing chakra.  I do the same thing.”

            “Oh, so... just now, that funny feeling – that was someone’s chakra?” she wondered aloud.

            “Chakra can reflect a lot about a person’s state of mind and their emotions.  When you felt that other person’s chakra just now, it made you uneasy because it felt bad, didn’t it?” Papa said, calmly.  “With training, you can use the ability to tell if someone is lying and where your enemies are in the battlefield.”

            Hasuka nodded in understanding.  It seemed like a really, really useful thing to be able to do.

            Papa smiled mischievously.  “It’s also useful for catching sneaky little brothers.”

            She couldn’t help giggling a little at that.

            “Hasuka,” he said, seriously.  “This is the legacy my mother passed down to us. It isn’t something your sister and brother can do.  Each of you have your own strengths and this one is _yours_.  I’ll help you understand it as best I can.  It won’t be easy, though.”

            That night, Hasuka officially stepped out from between her siblings.

            It was liberating.

            Well, until her father kicked her out of bed at the crack of dawn to squeeze in that first round of extra training before his hospital shift started.  Then it was made of suck and awful.  Papa _did not_ cut her any slack and made it clear he intended to make sure she knew exactly how to use her ability, even if he scared the living hell out of her in the process.

            Hasuka ended up limping to school with her little brother, looking like she’d gone a round with the number one taijutsu instructor in the village and lost.  For the first time, she was really aware that she’d been good at reading people _because_ she could feel their chakra.  It was so odd to think that what she’d assumed was woman’s intuition or a gut feeling was actually a special ability and, at the same time, she welcomed it wholeheartedly because it meant she really was something special on her own.

            Next to her, Minoru bounced, his entire being wired with energy and something he _wanted_ to say, but couldn’t quite yet.  It was distracting.

            “What is it?” she asked.

            He blushed and looked away.  “It’s nothing.”

            “Liar,” she said.

            Minoru huffed and crammed his hands in his pockets, mumbling something about a girl.

            Oh.

            _Oh._

            “You have a crush on someone!” Hasuka squealed.

            He blushed harder and lunged for her.  “It’s not like that!”

            A simple poke to the forehead unbalanced him.  “Stop lying, shrimp.  Who is she?”

            Minoru regained his balance and, sulking, crammed his hands back in his pockets.  “It’s a girl in my class,” he said finally, “Ikuko Yamanaka.”

            Hasuka vaguely knew who he was talking about.  The latest incarnation of the great Ino-Shika-Chou combo was something Great Auntie Ino had often boasted about with Grandmother.  All three were in Minoru’s class.  Ikuko was the only girl in the trio, though she was sure that Nara kid was a girl the first time she’d seen him.

            “What do you say to a girl you like?” Minoru asked, scratching his head in genuine confusion.  “I mean, you’re a girl so you’d know, right?”

            Hasuka rolled her eyes.  “How about telling her that you like her?”

            “Ew!” Minoru made a face.  “No way that’d work!”

            She sighed and resisted the urge to knock some sense into his skull.

            “Then again, you don’t have a boyfriend, so I probably shouldn’t be asking you anyway,” Minoru said, nodding sagely.

            Oh no, he _didn’t._

            One look at her face and her little brother’s green eyes went wide with fright. Then, the little brat bolted before her fist could connect.

            Hasuka stomped her foot, puffing up her cheeks, and stormed the rest of the way to the Academy.  Minoru was such a pain!  And that was totally uncalled for.  She was, what, only eleven?  She totally could get a boyfriend whenever she wanted.  It wasn’t like there was a rush.  And, hell, he was _nine_.  He shouldn’t even be thinking about girlfriends yet.

            Stupid, _idiot_ little brothers.

            And then her thoughts were rudely interrupted as she ducked out of the way of that repulsive, loud idiot in her class who had a crush on her.

            His name was Chakku and he was a dorky martial arts nut who, for some ungodly reason, thought she was the best thing since sliced bread.  He was loud, obnoxious and chivalrous to the point she wanted to just _beat_ sense into him, because she wasn’t the type of girl that needed to be treated like a princess and that’s what he seemed to think she needed.  He had a cute puppy, though, but that was all he had going for him in her book.

            Hasuka groaned, quickly heading for her seat next to her friend, Haruhi Hyuuga, while Chakku’s cousin and the quiet Aburame kid helped peel him out of the wall.

            Haruhi was calm incarnate and the only girl in their class who didn’t think Chakku’s crush on her was hilarious.  Just sitting next to her was like sitting next to a cool, clear pond.  She was one of the few people Hasuka had met that she’d just plain liked right off the bat.

            Ah, the chakra again!  Just how long had she been using this ability without even realizing it?

            Their instructor entered and ordered everyone to their seats.  Chakku leapt over the first row in an attempt to bounce up the stairs and sit next to her, only to be tripped up by his _wonderful_ (if a little girly-looking) cousin, who smugly took the seat next to her.

            Hasuka could kiss him, she could.  Chakku was unbearable.  His cousin, Genken, in contrast, was kind of nice and didn’t push on her nerves.  Oh, he flipped his lid and would get all sulky when people called him girly - even it if _was_ true –, but otherwise he was really pretty okay to hang out with.  And his puppy was even _cuter_.

            She suddenly had a strange uneasy feeling.

            “We have a new student joining us today,” their instructor said.  “This is Yoshikazu.”

            It was the boy from the graveyard.  He was dressed plainly, unlike the white haori and blue hakama he’d been wearing before, and he was radiating how nervous he was like a cloud, but it was him.  He seemed like he didn’t really want to be here and he wasn’t happy in the slightest.

            “Pleased to meet you all.  I hope we can be friends,” he said with a false smile, his glasses catching the light.

            Hasuka immediately decided she liked him.

            After all, he _was_ kind of cute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both Hasuka and her older sister, Tsubaki, have names related to flowers (the lotus and camellia, respectively) which thematically links them to Sakura. However, Hasuka's name also uses kanji from Karin's name - specifically, 香, which serves not only as a respectful nod to Karin, but is also foreshadowing that she has inherited her really keen senses.
> 
> Most of the others mentioned by name in the chapter follow naming conventions specific to their families (Hyuuga's having to do with the sun, Inuzuka with dogs, Yamanaka with boar), with Chakku and Yoshikazu as the exceptions (Chakku being named after Chuck Norris and Yoshikazu alluding to an "excellent scheme").


	5. Observer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Look underneath the underneath, as the old adage is fond of saying.

            Tsubaki had always had a rather disquieting presence.  There was no question that she was an exceptionally gifted ninja.  Greatness ran thick in her blood and had afforded her all the tools necessary to become a legend in her own right, which she capitalized with frightening aptitude.  However, her genius came paired with strangely quiet, focused personality and her face rarely moved from the strange aloof expression she had adopted.

            It worried her parents and grandparents, she knew that.  She had been good at sneaking as a child and could remember overhearing the concerned whispers and mentions of another genius, someone who’s name was never uttered, at least not where she could hear it or see the shapes of moving lips.  It particularly troubled her father most of all and left him scowling until she allowed him to find her.  He would always spoil her and buy her treats after those discussions and she never asked why.  He would not have explained anyway.

            Tsubaki learned early on to tell when adults were being evasive.  She memorized the ways that their eyes would shift and their bodies tense when she asked questions that they did not wish to answer.  Had she asked, she knew her father would tense and look away before giving an answer that would clarify nothing and indicate the subject was not up for discussion.

            Her Academy instructor had worried, too, thinking her to be slow at first, but he soon learned she wasn’t like most of the other children.  It was he who had first brought up the term genius when he discovered the speed at which she was mastering the forms and techniques.  Initially, he seemed quite delighted to have a genius, but she noticed his increasing discomfort as she continued to excel and press him for more advanced material.  He would stress she needed friends her own age, friends that were not her younger siblings, and to try socializing with her classmates, something she did not desire.

            Tsubaki thought he was an idiot, especially if he was easily spooked by a child, and was glad when she finally moved up in rank to genin.  She was paired with two of her classmates, Wasaku Hatake and Shio Aburame, who were both tolerable and sufficiently advanced in their abilities.  They weren’t noisy and understood her way of thinking in ways that most other children, save for her younger siblings, had found unfathomable.  Wasaku said that it was because they flowed and Shio said nothing, her bugs whispering around them like an ever-present protective net, but that was just Shio’s way of agreeing.

            It wasn’t long after she became a genin that Tsubaki and her team had their first C-rank escort mission outside the village. They were escorting Tsubaki’s grandmother to Suna for a lecture series at the hospital there.  Shio called it a glorified milk run and neither Tsubaki nor Wasaku disagreed with her.  But it was their first mission outside the village and that was good enough.

            Grandmother didn’t walk like an old lady.  As soon as she was through the village gates, she moved with a strange lightness to her steps, one that Tsubaki had never seen before.  It was puzzling to the girl, since all her observations had concluded that her grandmother been retired for many, many years and should be quite thoroughly out of practice.

            “Look underneath the underneath,” her jounin sensei said playfully, when he caught her watching.

            Tsubaki resisted the urge to scowl and noted that her grandmother’s lips had quirked in a faint smile.

             The rest of the journey was hardly noteworthy until they arrived at Suna.  The bare stone walls and muted sandy colors made the village seem like a labyrinth, where everything bled into everything else.  It was completely fascinating for Tsubaki, who had never seen this sort of architecture before.  Everything in Konoha was colorful and vibrant with life.  Here, in Suna, the colors were muted, if not absent, and she could not help wondering if they were concealed within the stone walls of homes and buildings, far from the harsh winds and stinging sand.

            Grandmother was greeted warmly by the sixth Kazekage, a man about the same age as their current Hokage, Kimagazaki-sama.  He greeted her as he would a relative and she did nothing to oppose the informality.  She was welcomed here, not as an ally and the wife of a former Hokage, but as an old friend.  For another nation’s leader to hold her in such close regard, it spoke volumes about the connection she’d shared with them.

            The medical lectures started early the next day and Tsubaki’s team was left to bide their time in the care of the Kazekage’s son, Itomura, and his team.  It was not entirely unpleasant.  Itomura was a decently intelligent young man and felt no harm in showing her some of the hidden colors of his village.  Additionally, he did not seem put off by her demeanor.  It was very strange to have a boy that was not afraid of her that was neither family nor teammate.

            “The desert is both beautiful and deadly. We in Suna learn to recognize this from an early age,” he explained dismissively.

            Tsubaki was amused by the comparison and asked for a spar.

            Itomura did not disappoint her.

            He moved differently than her teammates: they moved in a flowing, smooth way, like a stream or a flowing flame, and he moved in a jarring, sudden way, like a striking snake.  His puppets were coated in paralyzing, if not deadly, poisons. The challenge was thrilling.  When they stopped, their blades hovering mere centimeters from kill points, and their eyes locked, she felt her heart go _doki doki_ in a strange way and his face went as red as his hair.

             It was a strange feeling and Tsubaki was curious to learn if it was simply the thrill of sparring with a skilled opponent or if it was connected to something else.  Further observation was clearly necessary, although imprudent – this was a mission, even if it was a milk run.  Still, she tucked away the thought for later investigation and analysis.  After all, it would be unwise to ignore it completely.

            That night Suna celebrated their honored guest with festivities and a show of their famous bunraku, highlighting a great battle from long ago.  Grandmother looked on intently from her place of honor by the Kazekage and his family, her eyes seemingly somewhere else.  When the pink-haired puppet and blond puppet leapt on to the stage, Grandmother’s face contorted oddly before setting in an amused half-smile.

            “Uncle made these puppets,” the Kazekage said, indicating the old master puppeteer that led the performance.

            “He made me prettier than I was,” she commented.

            “Is that so?” the Kazekage replied politely.

            Grandmother smiled a little and the puppets danced in a choreographed mockery of combat, the pink hair brilliant in the stage light.

            The next day began in a similar fashion.  In the morning, Grandmother left for the medical lectures and they were once more left to their own devices.  For a little while, they trained, going over some more advanced chakra control exercises, and then they split for the day.  Shio occupied herself with examining some of the local insect life and Wasaku had buried himself in a particularly lengthy novel.  Tsubaki sought out the Kazekage’s son again, determined to understand why she had reacted to the spar like that.

            She’d sparred with her younger siblings, her parents, her teammates and her jounin sensei – none of them had caused her heart to pound faster.  With her parents and her sensei, it was clear they were holding back.  Their blocks, sweeps and holds were delivered with the intent of educating her on the holes in her form.  Similarly, sparring with her teammates was intended to familiarize them as a team with their respective styles and techniques and help them to form strategies on how to best use their strengths to their advantages.

            Spars with her younger siblings, Hasuka and Minoru, were only spars in the loosest sense of the word.  Almost two and four years younger than her respectively, their skills weren’t nearly as developed yet and she had to hold back when ‘playing ninja’ with them.  It was an exercise in self-control as much as it was showing them how it was done and the challenge of breaking down her training exercises into something they could understand made it interesting.  It did nothing for her in terms of real skill-building, but they were her little siblings: it was her responsibility to look out for them.  Helping them learn by ‘playing ninja’ was the ideal approach.

            Perhaps, she considered, it might be that Itomura was the first ninja she’d sparred that simply did not fit into the categories of family or teammates.  Or perhaps it was the differences between their styles and weapons.  Coping with the flexibility and added maneuverability of his puppets certainly made things far more interesting.  Of course, it could also be that she enjoyed the sheer challenge of sparring against techniques she was unfamiliar with.

            Tsubaki didn’t like being uncertain like this.  It bothered her.  It made her feel weird, like some kind of itch she couldn’t quite scratch.

            She found Itomura in one of the puppeteer’s workshops.  The old puppeteer that had led the bunraku was with him, hunched over the arm of a military-grade puppet.  She could not see exactly what they were doing from where she was standing, though.

            The old man pushed up his glasses and gave her a look, as if saying that he knew she was there from the moment she entered.  He then smiled mischievously.  “Oi, brat, your girlfriend is here to see you.”

            Itomura managed to turn red and spot her nearly simultaneously.  “Miss Uzumaki, I didn’t expect to see you here,” he sputtered, quickly wiping his hands off on a grease rag.

            “What are you doing?” she asked, coming forward until she could clearly see the workbench and the puppet arm with its naked mechanisms.  She picked up a spring-loaded senbon launcher and turned it over in her hands, even as the Kazekage’s son moved to take it from her.  “Is this for a side-launcher?”

            The old man laughed.  “You’re from Sakura’s line, no doubt about it!  Ito-kun, you’d better hold onto this one.”

            Itomura scowled, swatting away the old man’s attempts to poke at him with a screwdriver. “We’re not dating, Great-Uncle.”

            “We just met yesterday,” Tsubaki added, examining what appeared to be a switch of some kind on it.  “It’s the first time I’ve ever sparred anyone who uses puppets.”

            “Sparring with her already?  Is that what they’re calling it these days?  Man, you kids move so fast,” the old man teased, picking up a detached hand assembly.

            Itomura’s scowl deepened.  “Stop making it sound like something dirty, old man!”

            “You’re too easy to tease, Ito-kun,” the old man chuckled, pushing his glasses up on his nose, and effortlessly plucked the senbon launcher from Tsubaki’s hands.  “You wouldn’t want to set that off, missy.  Your grandmother would kill me if you hurt yourself under my watch.”

            That was right – this man had known her grandmother during the height of her career.  “My grandmother,” she started, “What was she like when she was my age?”

            The old puppeteer scratched his chin thoughtfully, his eyes somewhere else.  “Mmm, when she was your age?  Totally useless in a fight – smart as hell, but just not up to snuff as a fighter.”

            Itomura fumbled his tools in his surprise.

            “But that was a long time ago,” the old man continued, busying himself with the hand mechanism.  “One of her teammates got messed up something awful and that sure lit a fire under her ass.  Next time I ran into her, she was saving my life and handing S-ranked missing-nin their asses on a platter.  And she only got stronger from there on out.”

            Tsubaki considered this carefully.  Grandmother certainly never had mentioned taking down S-ranked missing-nin, but then neither Grandmother nor Grandfather ever talked much about their youths.

            “She’s a real lady, your grandmother,” the old man said.  “Don’t you be making her worry, missy.”

            She didn’t think it prudent to mention that she already did make her worry.

            After night fell, Itomura came to get her from the guest lodgings and took her on a brief tour of the village gardens.  Some of the flowers only blossomed at night, under the reflected light of the moon, and it was rather interesting to see the variety of these flowers the people of Suna invested in.

            Grandmother was waiting for her when she returned.

            They sat next to each other, in the moonlight.

            After a long while, Grandmother finally spoke, “He seems like a nice boy.”

            Tsubaki didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.

            “You know, you remind me a lot of your grandfather,” Grandmother said wistfully.  “Sasuke... Sasuke was a genius, but not particularly gifted in dealing with other people.”

            The name rested on her tongue like an exploding tag – it was her father’s father that Grandmother was talking about.  He was the genius no one mentioned?

            “He was a good man,” Grandmother continued.  Her eyes looked far away, somewhere else in time.  “He was utterly devoted and loyal to his family.”

            Tsubaki wondered why he was never talked about if he was such a good man.

            “He had this kind of frightening intensity about him,” Grandmother said, looking up at the moon.  “That presence... you remind me of him so much sometimes, Tsubaki, that it’s painful.”

            It did not take a genius to see that Grandmother had obviously cared very deeply for him and, as alien as the concept of love was to her, Tsubaki asked, “Did you love him, Grandmother?”

            “In my own way,” Grandmother replied, smiling sadly.  “Not like Naruto, though, but Sasuke was one of my most precious people all the same.  It hurt when he... died.”

            Tsubaki intently noted the way Grandmother paused and shifted her posture.  It was telling – something about his death must have hit her pretty hard.  Ninja lived violent lives and the incidence of death on missions and in combat was very high even in peacetime.  Their sensei said that sometimes the way people died would get under one’s skin, especially if it was a particularly horrific or unnecessary end or if it was a teammate one was really close to.  If the way he’d died was truly upsetting, it was a small wonder that people wouldn’t have wanted to talk about it.

            As it was, Tsubaki didn’t know much about her father’s father.  Sasuke Uchiha was something of a mystery.  Father didn’t speak of him, saying only that he’d died on a mission many years ago and that he didn’t remember him very well.  The few pictures she’d seen of him and father’s mother showed a young happy couple and gave few hints as to who they were as people.  She knew that Grandfather considered him a dear friend, used to have a friendly rivalry with him and that they had once been teammates in their youth.  She also knew that Sasuke had been a jounin sensei and ranked high in the Bingo Books of his day.  But Grandfather never did elaborate very much on the past and almost always went silent for a while after Sasuke was mentioned.  To think that she was very much like this man she knew so little about!  How interesting!

            “Tsubaki,” Grandmother sighed deeply, “Who are your precious people?”

            It was an absurd question.  The answer was painfully obvious, but Grandmother was staring at her and waiting for an answer.

            “Little sister and little brother,” Tsubaki said after a moment. “And all of our family, of course.”

            Grandmother nodded as if she’d been expecting that and sunk back a little, her eyes drifting to the moon.

            For a while, neither of them spoke and Tsubaki was forced to conclude the conversation was at an end.  She pushed herself to her feet and started to head back inside.

            “Tsubaki,” Grandmother called out again.  “One day, you will have to let your siblings walk on their own paths.  When that time comes, I hope you will have realized that you have other precious people in your life and that their happiness is yours as well.”

            Tsubaki did not sleep well that night. Her mind kept drifting back to that conversation and turning over the words again and again.  Grandmother had never spoken like this to her before.  She had always been a little distant and sad-looking around her, saying that Tsubaki and her siblings reminded her of her youth.  She never spoke of the past or of the dead, not once, and Tsubaki sometimes thought that she didn’t quite know what to say to her.  It made sense, though, if Grandmother was seeing an echo of someone she lost long ago in her. 

            But it was her Grandmother’s last words that truly stuck fast.

            It was true, Tsubaki doted on her siblings.  Was that not the duty of an elder sibling?  Was that not her right to protect and care for them? She knew that one day they would have their own teams and their own duties that would place them in harm’s way.  Hasuka and Minoru _would_ grow up.  It was only logical.  It did not mean that Tsubaki would stop being their older sister.  They would grow up and she would still be there to hurt those that dared threaten them.  No one could take that right from her.

            Still, Grandmother wouldn’t have said something like that if it wasn’t somehow important and, idly, Tsubaki wondered if it had anything to do with why she had mentioned her resemblance to Sasuke.  If only she knew more about him, then maybe it would make more sense!  And so, her thoughts spun around in maddening circles until she at last drifted into a restless sleep.

            The next day they were to return home.  The morning’s first order of business was a series of perfunctory diplomatic farewells to the medic-nin, the elders, and the Kazekage.  Grandmother sailed through them with the ease of many years of practice, every inch the wife of a former Hokage.

            Tsubaki only wanted to say goodbye to one person and that was Itomura. He was an excellent sparring partner and she wanted to spar with him again when they next saw each other.  She told him so and he blushed all the way to the roots of his red hair.

            The journey home would take about three days and, as they went, Tsubaki was tempted to ask her Grandmother more about Sasuke.  Always, something pulled her back and stopped her before she could ask.  It seemed taboo, as if asking would be asking Grandmother to reveal an old, ugly scar that still ached from time to time, and yet she _wanted_ to know so badly.  She hated not knowing or understanding something.

            It was distracting and distractions led to mistakes.

            Tsubaki’s perimeter scan was sloppy – she knew it and the missing-nin that ambushed them knew it, too.

            Their jounin sensei ordered them to fall into defensive formation around Grandmother and launched out to attack the leader of the small group of missing-nin.  He disappeared from sight, the sound of steel on steel echoing as they fought.

            The other missing-nin, both young teens with scarred faces, circled them slowly.  They were clearly experienced, something that Tsubaki’s team lacked even with all their talent, and there was no way they could accurately gauge their level.  But sensei must have thought they could handle it, because he wouldn’t have let himself get too far if he hadn’t.

            The ground crumbled under Tsubaki’s foot as a thick hand grabbed her ankle and the missing-nin charged.

            Adrenaline soared through her system in a mad, blood-pounding rush and the whole world slowed to a red-tinged crawl.  She threw out an arm to balance herself, spinning the kunai around in her other hand, and struck down at the head of the missing-nin trying to pull her under.  She didn’t stop stabbing until the chakra in his head went dark and his hand went limp on her foot.

            Tsubaki scrambled to her feet as Wasaku busted a bunshin of one of the missing-nin and Shio’s bugs swarmed on the other, drowning him in a deluge of small buzzing pinpricks of blue chakra which burst as the bunshin vanished.

            The missing-nin regrouped, back to back once more, and made a series of half hand-seals, water on one hand and earth on the other, and a cannon of slick, heavy mud slammed into Wasaku, sending him sprawling back.  A second shot of it clipped Tsubaki’s arm and head, causing her to stumble back.

            “That’s a rather clever trick there,” Grandmother said calmly.  Her hands and arms rested loose at her sides in an odd way, one that on anyone else would have been called prepared to move.  “You got a bloodline limit or something?”

            The two scarred missing-nin did not answer.

            Shio moved next to Tsubaki, sliding into a defensive stance.  Behind them, Wasaku was wiping the mud out of his eyes, cursing loudly.  “He’s ok,” Shio said, cocking her head, “How about you?”

            “I think I have blood in my eyes,” Tsubaki said, rubbing at her face with her offhand.  Everything was so red!

            “Hand over your money and we might let you live,” one of the two missing-nin said.

            The second sneered.  “Rich folk like you can spare a little.”

            Grandmother looked positively amused and that, oddly, was very creepy.  There was something about the way she was smiling that just set off every warning bell in Tsubaki’s head.

            “You boys,” Grandmother said, “Have no idea who I am, do you?”

            “Who cares?” the first said.

            “Yeah, you’re just a rich old hag with some hired brats,” the second added.

            Shio looked like she was about to say something, but Tsubaki signaled her to be quiet.

            Grandmother held up one finger and, deadly serious, said, “I am the wife of the sixth Hokage and former head of the Konoha Hospital.  This finger is all I need to kill you.”

            The two missing-nin began to laugh.

            Grandmother smiled mischievously and flicked the ground in front of her with her fingertip.

             The ground exploded.

            Shio and Tsubaki sprang back as the ground continued to splinter.

            “It seems I’m getting rusty in my old age. I remember when I used to crush mountains with my little finger,” Grandmother said as she lightly landed on the edge of the destruction.  Her face hardened.  “Now, get lost, before I lose my temper.”

            The missing-nin visibly blanched and turned to run.

            “Shio, your bugs – after them,” Grandmother ordered quietly.

            Shio hesitated a moment and then directed the swarm to pursue and subdue.

            “Wasaku, Tsubaki – you will follow and finish them off,” Grandmother said firmly, her hands balling into fists.

            Tsubaki looked at her in confusion.

            “One day, you will understand,” Grandmother’s eyes lowered, “That we can not always be merciful.”

            And, in the end, Grandmother was right.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wasaku's name can refer either to making a circle or crop rotation, which is fitting since he's a Hatake and... it's a FARM JOKE ok.  
> Shio's name follows the same name pattern as Shino and his father, Shibi.  
> Itomura's name derives from "thread".


	6. Legacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While waiting in the hospital, Sakura considers her legacy.

            Sakura is old.  Her hands are not as steady as they used to be, her face is wrinkled and her hair is now mostly white.  She thinks, perhaps, she shouldn’t look as old as she does, but she knows this is a side effect of the life she’s chosen.  Years of rigorous chakra usage has shortened her life and drained away her youth.

            She is not alone in this – Naruto, too, wears the effects of age.  His hair is peppered with white and some days his joints lock up.  He looks even older than she does now, partly due to stress and the rigors of ninja life, and partly due his condition as jailor.  The Kyuubi’s regenerative abilities have a steep price and he pays it even now.

            But it was all right, she supposes.  They’d both lived long hard lives and lived to see their grandchildren, which is more than most ninja can hope for.  Some ninja didn’t live to see their children born.  Many didn’t make it to their thirties.  Fewer still lived long enough to get old.

            Peace had changed that a little, but there were always missions and conflicts that needed solving and people died in the course of them.  Both Naruto and Sakura have come to terms with that.  Peace was not an everlasting thing.  It was merely their responsibility to do their best to protect that peace for the future generations to come and, eventually, to turn that responsibility over to the next generation and the generation after that.

            Sakura has delivered many children of Konoha into the world since she began her long career as a medical ninja.  Of the last generation or so, there are very few she has not personally welcomed into the world.

            One of those few was her own daughter.

            Some of those few are her grandchildren.

            There is a rule, a good rule, that medic-nin follow in her hospital: one shall not tend to those they are emotionally close to.  Outside Konoha, when teams are in the field, the mission takes precedence and the medic-nin are allowed to operate on their teammates and comrades as they see fit.  Active ninja are trained to shut down emotionally in combat to be efficient.  Medical-nin are no different.  It’s triage.  You bring home who you can and mourn the ones you can’t when you’re back inside the walls.

            But inside Konoha is different.  It is _home_ , it’s safe, and every ninja in the village becomes a different person as soon as they are back within the protective walls.  They resume thinking with their hearts and not their heads, which is a dangerous thing for medics.

            She sits with her two granddaughters and wonders about the third grandchild, the one they are waiting on.  It is her daughter’s third child, so the birth should be easier.  She knows this – she’s seen it more than a dozen times – but still she can’t get rid of the worry.  It’s her daughter, not someone else’s, and her training tells her dozens of things can go wrong in childbirth.

            This is why she is outside, with the older two grandchildren.  This is why her son-in-law, also a medic-nin, was sent on an errand to the gift shop on the other side of town to cool his heels for a while.

            Sakura lets her attention wander to her granddaughters and studies them quietly.

            The eldest, Tsubaki, is a brilliant four year-old with bright red hair and her father’s dark grey eyes.  There is an unnerving stillness about her, though, and Sakura supposes that Tsubaki gets that from her father’s side of the family.  It’s the same stillness and sense of purposefulness that she remembers seeing in Sasuke years and years ago.  She does not doubt that those dark grey eyes will one day bleed into a familiar Sharingan red and prays that she will not be present to witness it.  She has seen enough of those accursed eyes in combat to last her an entire lifetime.

            It feels both wrong and faintly right to even think of a descendant of hers with that bloodline.  It brings back memories of when she was a silly little girl, with naïve dreams of marrying the elusive child that was, once upon a time, Sasuke Uchiha.  The very memory of those old, childhood dreams of Sasuke feels a bit like betraying her husband.  But, Sakura reminds herself, Sasuke is not the one she married.  He is not the one that she chose to stay with and he is not the one she is growing old with (though, a sad little part of her heart wishes he was still here to grow old with them as a friend and teammate, the damn stupid bastard).

            She supposes there’s a certain irony that her daughter and Sasuke’s son, Rinji, are now married.  It’s not as if fate is repaying her for that broken dream, but more like the universe has a patently wry sense of humor and enjoys throwing things back in her face for the hell of it.  Her daughter, Hana, was completely oblivious for years when it came to the poor boy’s feelings, always crushing on some pretty brooding boy that wasn’t interested, and, not for the first time, Sakura feels deep empathy for her own now long-deceased mother.  All those times she had whined and cried to her mother about how unfair it was and how her mother couldn’t possibly understand had come back to haunt her in the form of her own daughter.  In the end, the boy’s persistence won out, much in the same fashion Naruto had worn Sakura down, and Sakura had watched as her daughter began to take those first trembling steps into what would become a lasting relationship with the boy.

            Sakura’s attention drifts away from those thoughts to the younger of her two granddaughters, Hasuka, and she cannot help the soft smile that forms on her lips. 

            Hasuka may have inherited Naruto’s blue eyes, but she is undeniably Sakura’s granddaughter.  The pale pink hair is a dead giveaway.  It’s very strange to see it on someone else and Sakura idly wonders how much Hasuka will resemble her in time.  Hasuka is only two, though, and there is so much to wonder about her and the type of person she’ll grow to be.

            The little girl, as if aware of the scrutiny, balls her hand into a tiny fist and curls deeper into Sakura’s lap, yawning loudly.

            Naruto lingers a little bit further down the hall, fiddling with the vending machine.  He presses buttons with the absent-minded purpose of a man distracting himself from anxiety.  The tiers of food spin around and around and back and forth, though he knows very well where they have the cup ramen. Sakura has the slots memorized, even after all this time - there has always been cup ramen stocked on slots C2 through C6 since Naruto started visiting her at the new hospital after the Reconstruction.  Their first date had been squeezed in a makeshift break room because everywhere else was filled with the wounded and all the soup kitchen could spare was some cup ramen and candy bars.  When things began to turn around, he had the vending machine installed, with orders for cup ramen to always be available.

            Sakura smiles at him and gently smooths Hasuka’s hair.

            Naruto finally chooses something and fumbles through the hidden pockets in his robes for loose change.

            She takes pity on him and pulls the correct change out of her own pocket.  “Tsubaki,” she says, smiling, “Here, go help your grandfather.”

            The red-headed girl nods solemnly as she takes the coins and ambles quietly down the hall in a pale, childish imitation of the gait experienced ninja use.

            A loud wailing newborn’s cry comes from the next room and the doors open, revealing her son-in-law in scrubs, his ponytail and bangs shoved under a doctor’s cap.  “It’s a boy!” he says happily.

            “Daddy!” Hasuka cries excitedly, sitting up.

            “Didn’t I send you to go get something from the gift shop?” Sakura asks blandly, as the two-year old in her lap squirms in an attempt to go to her father.

            Naruto chuckles as he returns with Tsubaki and a cup of chicken flavor ramen, one in each arm.  “You snuck back in through the window, didn’t you, Rinji?”

            The sheepish look on her son-in-law’s face says Naruto has guessed correctly.

            “Your father was worse, Rinji,” Sakura sighs, scooping up Hasuka.  “He snuck in through the air ventilation shaft after twenty minutes.”

            She distinctly remembers throwing Sasuke out the window for contaminating the delivery room with that stunt and smiles a little, fondly recalling the look of utter shock on her former teammate’s face and the way Karin, utterly exhausted from the birth of her son, smiled tiredly at the spectacle.  Those were interesting times.

            “Want daddy!” Hasuka pouts, reaching out for her father.

            “Your daddy has to go and see mommy,” Sakura explains patiently.  “Then daddy is going to show you the baby.  Do you want to see the baby?”

            The two year-old’s face scrunches up in thought and, finally, she nods.

            “You heard the lady, boy,” Naruto says, smiling.  “Get a move on.”

            Her son-in-law, Rinji, disappears back inside and they start on their way towards the nursery.

            Sakura knows the way by heart and hardly needs to think about it.  Hell, many of the nurses they pass in the hall were once babies that Sakura had brought to that very nursery.  It makes her feel positively ancient.

            Rinji is waiting for them on the other side of the observation window.  In his arms, Sakura can see the red, scrunched, tiny face of her newborn grandson and notes absently that he appears perfectly healthy, dark hair already visible on his head.  Always a medic first, she admonishes herself, and wonders what color his eyes will be.  They won’t know for sure for a few months yet, but she hopes his eyes will be green in the end.  She likes the idea of seeing her legacy in her grandchildren.

            “Look, Hasuka, Tsubaki,” Sakura says, smiling as she shifts the two year-old on her hip so the child could see better.  “It’s your little brother.”

            “He looks funny,” Hasuka says, her face torn between curiosity and contemplation.  “Why?”

            “Babies always look like that,” Tsubaki says, matter-of-factly.

            “But _why_?” the two year-old asks again, not understanding.

            Naruto chuckles and patiently explains as best he can.

            The baby is named Minoru and, many months later, when he has a full head of stubborn spiky black hair and his eyes have changed from the light grey of young infants to an all too familiar green, Sakura is secretly pleased.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sakura throwing Sasuke out a window references the events of "Delivery".
> 
> Hana's name follows the same convention as her daughters' do, having to do with flowers and thus also Sakura.
> 
> Rinji's name, however, is made up of the kanji for forest and be at peace, which alludes to his nature.


	7. Stratagem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The life of a ninja is a game of tactical maneuvers, as Konohamaru well knows.

            Konohamaru stands in the door of one of the private studies in the library, leaning against the frame as he watches the individual inside.

            Hakukaji, age fourteen, newly instated chuunin, is buried up to his elbows in scrolls and restricted volumes, scanning through them with fervor.

            Naruto had given the boy permission to be here, but he was concerned and approached Konohamaru about finding out what was going on.  As his jounin sensei, Konohamaru knew him best.

            It was all but unsaid: _we don’t want another Orochimaru._

            Konohamaru knows that isn’t the case with this kid.

            Hakukaji is a good kid with a damn fine head on his shoulders.  He’d been a real brat a few years ago, but he cut that out fast as he came into his own.   And that boy didn’t move without knowing what he was up against or without some kind of plan in place.  Whatever he is looking for in here, it is something he figured would be good for the team.

            Still, he understands the concern.  The stuff in this room could do so much damage in the wrong hands.

            “Konohamaru-sensei, please come in,” Hakukaji says stiffly, not even looking over his shoulder.  “You’re making it hard to concentrate.”

            Konohamaru chuckles and walks in, taking a seat at the table.  “What are you up to, kid?”

            “Research,” Hakukaji says, turning a page in the journal he is looking through.

            Konohamaru reaches forward and tips up the cover so he can get a look at it.  _Observations and Medical Data on Doujutsu: Supplementary Log: Sharingan._   “A little light reading on your teammate, huh?” he asks.  “What’s wrong with just asking Rinji?”

            “Rinji wouldn’t be helpful,” Hakukaji replies, flipping through another page.  “He doesn’t know anything about his Sharingan and, besides, he’s terrified of it.”

            Sighing, Konohamaru leans back.  “It’s understandable.  He’s had a difficult experience.”

            “So I’ve heard,” Hakukaji says.  He sighs in frustration and looks up at Konohamaru, his face truly troubled.  “Sensei, this can’t continue.  His fear of it is a liability to the team.  He needs to learn how to use it and, if he’s too scared to do it...”

            “...Then you’ll make him learn,” Konohamaru finishes.

            He is sure he will need a strong drink later.

            Oh, he understands the logic – Hakukaji won’t let his teammates get themselves killed and he can’t complete his strategies if he knows his team’s playing on a handicap, but Hakukaji is treading on very dangerous ground where Rinji Uchiha is concerned.

            Some things just are better left buried and doubly true where it concerns the Uchiha.

            “Haku,” he says, taking the book from him.  “Rinji’s demons are his own.  One day he’s going to face them, but you shouldn’t force him.”

            Hakukaji is silent.

            “I know you mean well,” Konohamaru adds, “It’s just not your decision.”

            Hakukaji frowns.

            “Come on, you’ve done enough work today,” he says, standing and offering a hand to his student.  “I’ll treat you to some lunch and a game of shogi.”

            “I want barbecue,” Hakukaji says, smiling a little, and takes his hand.

            Lunch is quiet but, then again, Hakukaji isn’t much of a talker.  Hana, the hyper brat of Sakura and Naruto, usually does most of the chatting.  The only one on their team who talks _less_ than Hakukaji is Rinji and he’s so introverted that he makes his father – that poor bastard – look talkative by comparison.

            Sasuke Uchiha, that poor, poor bastard.  What happened to him and his family wasn’t fair.  It still pisses Konohamaru off and it’s been _nine_ years.

            He supposes it’s a bit personal now.  Ever since Naruto saddled him with that hellion girl of his, Hakukaji and Rinji, he’s found that their problems often end up bothering him like an ulcer.  They’re his squad and they’ll remain so, even when he’s finally got his coveted Hokage hat.

            Damn kids.

            He’s not supposed to like them so much.

            Before long, the shogi board is out and Hakukaji is patiently waiting.

            Konohamaru immediately take the lead with an aggressive strategy, though he can see the underpinnings of a scheme in Hakukaji’s careful choices.

            “Konohamaru-sensei, why didn’t you become Hokage?” Hakukaji asks thoughtfully.  His eyes never leave the board.

            The jounin blinks.  “I’m sorry, what?”

            “You were strongly being considered for the position two years ago,” the boy says, casually.  “And then, suddenly, you took a jounin sensei appointment.”

            Konohamaru narrows his eyes at the board.  “Perhaps I was not ready to be Hokage.”

            “It’s illogical,” Hakukaji says, looking up at him.  “You were ready, but you chose to turn it down.  There’s little to be gained by such a move.”

            He smiles at the boy then and executes a vicious trap on the board.  “That isn’t necessarily true.”

            “How so?” Hakukaji asks and he thinks he sees a suspicion of what the answer is in the boy’s eyes.

            Konohamaru easily captures another piece.  “The period between two kages is a time of vulnerability.  One might, if they were so inclined, take advantage of such a situation.”

            “So, you and the Hokage are stalling for time,” Hakukaji murmurs, countering his move.  “I see.”

            He smiles in amusement.  “Do you, now?”

            Hakukaji lapses into silence and they play quietly for a while.

            At last, Hakukaji speaks again: “Sensei, suppose you knew something that might be able to help your team, but you couldn’t prove it for sure.  Would you still try it?”

            Konohamaru frowns. He thinks that he knows where this is going.  “What are you up to?”

            “It’s nothing,” Hakukaji says, sacrificing his knight to clear the way for his other pieces to put the king in check.  “It’s just a theory.”


	8. Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time flies quickly when you're not looking.

            Naruto thinks he’s getting old.

            Sakura says he’s just grown up and there’s nothing wrong with that.  Still, he feels old somehow and it’s not just the crow’s feet forming at the corners of his eyes talking, either.

            Their daughter, Hana, is a genin now, proudly tying her new forehead protector into her orange hair and grinning to herself.  She resembles her mother in many ways, though he sees bits of himself in her, and it brings back memories of his team, of those early days before it all went south.  Soon, he’ll have to approve her jounin sensei and team assignment and then she’ll start missions.  If his daughter is anything like him, he supposes she’ll soon grow tired of D-rank missions and demand something more challenging.

            A memory of Zabuza and Haku drifts to the surface and Naruto, for a moment, wonders if he will be able to assign his daughter a higher ranked mission like the Wave one.

            Of course he will.  History is not doomed to repeat itself, after all.  It may rise and fall in cycles, but it is not fixed.

            Hana will be fine.  She’s a quick thinker, very determined and, even if her chakra control is a little shaky now, her sensei will certainly help her figure it out.  She hasn’t got a bias hanging over her head, not like he did as a child, and for that he is eternally grateful.  Instead, she has an expectation of promise, of unbridled potential, that drives her to stick to fashions and pretty boys with the same flair he remembers her mother having at that age.

            Yeah, he thinks, Hana will be perfectly fine.

            “Sir?” a jounin at the door calls to him.  He’s carrying papers from the hospital.

            Naruto accepts them and sighs as he notices one of them regards one of Sasuke’s old students, Tamaki, a young woman he’d been considering placing as his daughter’s jounin sensei.  The document is an order to remove the woman from active duty and place her on maternity leave, penned in Sakura’s neat hand.

            In his head, Naruto tries to mesh the idea of Tamaki the genin he’d assigned to Sasuke’s team eleven years ago with the idea of Tamaki the jounin, a young mother and the two images refuse to fit.  It seems like it had only been a little while ago that he’d assigned her to Sasuke.  Man, time does fly.

            Hana removes her forehead protector from its place in her hair, frowning, and ties it around her upper arm.  Satisfied, she smiles proudly at him and Naruto wonders how much she too will change in the years to come.  She has already grown so much and, someday, she won’t be a little girl anymore – she’ll be a woman.  But that’s a long way off, and so he smiles at her, says he’s proud and ruffles her hair affectionately.

            Yes, Naruto decides, he is getting old.


	9. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasuke, at peace.

            Sasuke is nineteen and feels like he’s twice that old.  He’s been a traitor three times – first to his village and friends, then to his brother’s memory, and finally to Akatsuki.  He’s wandered everywhere, it seems, and he knows countless jutsu.  His body is littered with so many scars he can’t remember where he got them all.  He wears the rank of jounin officially, though everyone in the village and all the Bingo books rank him among the three most powerful ninja alive, right alongside his former teammates.

            He’s been working odd jobs around the village for a while now, mostly for the interrogation squads, though he is officially listed as a jounin sensei and has been so for almost a year.  He has yet to pass a team but he’s okay with that.  It keeps him close to home, which is exactly where he wants to be right now.

            A messenger chunnin runs up to him and passes him a scroll before darting off down the street.

            Sasuke unfurls the scroll and skims it quickly.  It’s a summons from the Hokage addressed to all jounin sensei on standby, asking them to report for their new genin assignments.  Was it really that time of year already?  It seemed like only yesterday he’d flunked his first batch of snot-nosed brats and sent them crying back to the Academy.

            He is not alone when he steps into the Hokage’s office.  Shino and Moegi are there, as are half a dozen other jounin, but he only knows those two well, so he finds himself standing with them while he waits.  One by one, the others filter out, until he is left alone with the sixth Hokage, his old teammate.

            “Try not to traumatize this batch too badly, Sasuke,” Naruto says, sighing as he picks up one last file folder, and holds it out.

            Sasuke grunts, accepting the folder - he’ll skim through it later.

            “Sasuke,” Naruto starts, his face drawn in concern.  “I know I said to give it a try, but if being a jounin sensei isn’t working for you, I can transfer you to another division.”

            It’s times like these Sasuke wants to smash that blond head face-first into the desk for sheer stupid.  He is tempted, sorely tempted.  Instead, he closes his eyes and smirks, turning away.  “Maybe this group will surprise me.”

            He walks home, letting his mind wander.

            It’s not that he hates the idea of being a sensei.  Not really, anyway.  It’s more that he doesn’t have the slightest clue what he should do with them.  He’s used to running with high-level jounin and elite ANBU, not lagging behind with genin who barely know the basics.  And to think, seven years ago, he’d been just as wet behind the ears as these kids.

            It’s only been seven years and he’s changed so much - they’d all changed so much that it was sometimes hard to recognize them as the same people.

            Sasuke slips into his apartment, leaving his jounin vest and sandals at the door.  Putting aside the folder, he pads quietly down the hall in his bare feet and peers into the bedroom.  His wife is asleep, their year-old son napping on her chest.  Neither wakes when he lies down next to them on the futon, though Karin does shift a little as she unconsciously senses the proximity of his chakra and smiles in her sleep.  Had it been anyone else, she would have been awake already, the blade up her sleeve at the ready and their son safely hidden.

            Sasuke is nineteen and a father.

            He watches his son sleep, completely fascinated.  His son, Rinji, is the most perfect thing he’s ever seen in this world and one of the few things worth dying for.

            Sasuke and Karin are both imperfect.  She’s clingy and volatile and hides her true self behind her glasses like they’re a shield.  He’s violent, abrasive, and doesn’t trust easy.  They’ve both seen and done horrible things in their lives and loss is no stranger to either of them.  Somehow, they fit together, though, in a way that bewilders the other villagers, but they don’t know her like he does and they don’t know him at all.

            Their son, on the other hand, is a clean slate.  Everything about him is undecided and full of unknown potential.  There’s no telling what he’ll grow up to be and it’ll be years before they’ll know for sure if he’s inherited either of their special talents. 

            He sighs heavily as he examines his son’s tiny face and thick, dark hair.  What are they doing, bringing a kid into this world?  They’re so young and stupid and screwed up.  They’re going to mess up, for sure – they’re ninja, trained killers, what the hell do they know about raising kids?

            Rinji wakes then and starts to fuss, putting a stop to that train of thought.

            Karin starts to stir, and Sasuke tells her to go back to sleep as he picks up the baby.  A quick sniff and cursory look prove it’s not the diaper, so he makes his way back to the kitchen.  It takes a few minutes for him to warm up some milk, especially since he’s juggling the baby in one arm, though soon enough it’s ready and he’s watching his son greedily latch onto the sippy cup with a zest only Suigetsu could have rivaled.

            Sasuke smiles sadly and fills a small bowl with some dry cereal.  Suigetsu and Juugo had both opted to travel after things got settled and it had been a while since he’d heard from either of them.  They were friends – maybe not the best of friends, but good ones nonetheless – and he worries about them.   He supposes that maybe he’s never really stopped being the leader of their team and, even though they’ve gone their separate ways, he still feels responsible for them.

            They’re not his team anymore, he notes, eyeing the folder on the table.

            Sighing, Sasuke sits down, sets Rinji in his lap and, putting the cereal bowl down within easy reach of his son, he picks up the folder and begins to familiarize himself with his new students.  He’ll be meeting them soon and he’d rather not be flying completely blind.

            In many ways, he’s hesitant to get to know them at all.  There’s no point in trying if they’re going to just flunk the ‘survival’ test.  Hell, the last group Naruto foisted on him flunked so spectacularly that he recommended they repeat two years of Academy instead of the usual one.

            When Karin enters the kitchen, he’s on the last page and Rinji is occupied with flinging cereal at him and happily babbling away in strings of nonsense sounds.  She lingers in the doorway for a moment, watching them with the secret little smile she reserves for them alone, and then joins them, kneeling down behind Sasuke and hugging him.  “What’s that?” she asks, sliding down into a sitting position.

            Rinji squeals happily and crawls out of Sasuke’s lap towards his mother, spilling cereal everywhere.

            “New genin squad,” Sasuke explains, brushing the cereal out of his lap.  Honestly, Rinji seems to spill or throw as much cereal as he manages to eat.

            “It’s that time of year already?” she giggles, leaning in to pick up the baby.  “We could use some babysitters.  When are you meeting them?”

            Sasuke snorts and leans in, a slow smile creeping across his lips.  “I was supposed to meet them an hour ago.”

            “You ass,” Karin scolds him and gives him a playful shove on the shoulder, but she’s trying so hard not to laugh that she’s making a hilarious face.  “Get going!”

            He chuckles, kissing her on the forehead.  “Nah, I’d rather stay and have lunch.”

            “You, Mister Uchiha, seem to be wearing lunch,” Karin counters, plucking a bit of cereal out of his hair.  She pops it in her mouth and adds, “Five second rule.”

            He pauses, studying the way her lips curve in a playful smile, and then kisses her, gently.  She returns the kiss, a tender kiss that reflects the contented expression on her face.  It is more affection than people would think either of them capable of, but, then again, they never see this side of them.  Only here, in the privacy of their home, they feel safe enough to reveal their vulnerabilities like this.  Their home is sanctuary, the only place no one expects anything of them, and, briefly, Sasuke entertains that this must be what heaven is like.

            Rinji giggles and tosses more cereal at them in an effort to get their attention, completely ruining the moment.

            “All right, all right, I’m going!” Sasuke chuckles, unable to help himself, and starts to get up.  He leans down to kiss Karin and then kisses his son on the head.  “Behave for your mother, brat.”

            Rinji just smiles back at him, sucking on his tiny fist.  He’s too little to really understand what he’s being told, but he soaks up the attention like a sponge and, idly, Sasuke wonders if this is how he must have looked to his father, once upon a time. 

            Come to think of it, what on earth would his parents have thought of him and his little family if they could see him now?  Would they be happy for him or disappointed?  He’ll never know for sure now, but he can’t help wondering and it brings back a dull, familiar ache in his heart.

            “Sasuke, stop dawdling,” Karin chides, snapping him out of his thoughts.  “You can’t keep those poor kids waiting forever.”

            Sasuke smiles and winks at her as he turns to get his shoes and vest.  He’s told her a few times about his own past, about his times on Team Seven, and how Kakashi-sensei would keep them waiting for hours on end just to watch them squirm, but he knows she thinks he’s just exaggerating – what ninja didn’t at his age, especially about a teacher like that?  In the end, though, she’s _right_.  He really can’t keep them waiting forever. Like it or not, he’s stuck with them until they fail his ‘survival’ test.

            The Academy isn’t very far at all, merely a few minutes jog over the rooftops, and he easily finds the room he’s looking for.  He can hear the three grumpy students inside, complaining about the wait and regurgitating rumors they’d heard about the infamous Sasuke Uchiha, none of which are accurate or have given them any idea of what he’s really capable of.  One of them is shuffling around the door now, probably trying to prank him for letting them wait so long.

            How nostalgic.

            Sasuke briefly entertains the idea of jumping in through the window and setting off a giant prize cracker with his name on it, in a similar fashion to what he remembers Anko doing during his first chuunin exams.  Instead, he feels himself slipping into the deceptively aloof and bored stance he remembers Kakashi-sensei favoring.  Maybe later, if they pass, he’ll take a page out of Anko’s book and rattle them a bit, just to keep them on their toes.

            He opens the door from the side, letting the erasers bounce harmlessly to the floor as he gets his first look at them and instructs them to meet on the roof.  Unsurprisingly, he is there several minutes before they are, since they do not yet know how to scale the sides of buildings with chakra alone, something which he can now do without even thinking about it.  He doesn’t really know where to begin with them, so when they arrive, he suggests they introduce themselves.

            The boy who speaks up first, Saigan Kimagazaki, immediately reminds him of Naruto.  The boy is loud and determined to prove himself to anyone and everyone in his way.

            The girl, Tamaki, reminds him of Sakura a little.  She looks plain, like an ordinary girl, too soft and too weak.  Though there’s pride in the way she holds her head up and stares him in the face when she answers that Sakura never had at that age.

            The last boy, Saitou Shirogane, is familiar, like a distorted reflection of the brat he used to be.  There’s arrogance there that needs to be hammered out.  Worse, his given name is very similar to the other boy’s, ensuring potential screw-ups.

            Sasuke idly wonders if this is what Kakashi-sensei felt like when he first met the members of his Team Seven.

            “Sasuke-sensei, when do we start our duties?” the girl, Tamaki, asks confidently.

            He’s unable to help himself as he smirks.  “We begin first thing tomorrow.”

            “Oh, oh! What are we doing, sensei?” Saigan demands, clearly excited – really, was Naruto as hyper as this at that age?

            “We’ll be doing a survival training exercise tomorrow, just the four of us,” Sasuke replies steadily and ignores the three children’s protests and whining about how they’d already had enough training. “The three of you will be fighting me as part of the last stage of your graduation exam.”

            “Wait, what?  We already passed!” Saigan shouts, leaping to his feet.

            “No,” Sasuke says sternly, “You merely passed the first stage, meaning that you have the potential to become genin.  The second stage is where we determine if you really have what it takes to be part of a genin squad.  Sixty-six percent of your classmates will fail this test and be sent back to the Academy.”

            The three genin stare openly at him in undisguised shock, completely silent.

            “Tomorrow, the three of you get to show me your skills on the training ground,” Sasuke continues easily, standing and handing out the required paperwork.  “Bring all the shinobi tools you have, though I doubt they’ll help you much.”

            Out of the corner of his eye, Sasuke notices the girl twitch in barely restrained anger, but pretends he didn’t see it and instead moves to leave.  “One last thing: don’t eat breakfast or you’ll puke.”

            He disappears in a very visible puff of smoke, relocating to the shadows of one of the small trees in the roof garden, and waits, observing them quietly.

            The girl screams in rage, startling her teammates, before turning and grabbing them, claiming that they’ll teach him to underestimate them.  She says she has a plan and, as far as genin plans generally go, it’s pretty decent – it’s not great and it certainly won’t take down one of the village’s strongest jounin, but it’s decent enough for a genin.  The boys look like they’re slow to cotton to it, but soon enough the stoic Saitou is putting in suggestions and the hyper Saigan is eagerly nodding in agreement.  The three of them leave together, deep in discussion over their little scheme, and, for a moment, he’s tempted to stop them.

            Technically, the three of them have just unwittingly made sure he no longer needs to administer the test.  They’re acting as a team, even if it is just to spite him.  Still, it’s tradition and Sasuke doesn’t feel like spoiling the surprise for them.  Not yet, anyway.  He’ll leave that until after he’s had a chance to terrorize them a little.

            Sasuke wanders slowly back home, taking a short detour through the graveyard to say hi to a few old friends.  He spends the rest of the day with his wife and son, enjoying his last day of relative peace and quiet before he officially starts his duties as a jounin sensei.  He has a distinct feeling his life is about to take another hectic turn.

            That night, he dreams of his brother and Kakashi-sensei, sitting at a campfire, and when he wakes, he can only remember the lingering feeling of Itachi’s fingers pressing against his forehead and Kakashi’s assurance that everything will be all right.  It’s strangely comforting and the feeling stays with him, like a steady hand on his shoulder.

            Sasuke spends a little time after breakfast playing with his son, while Karin takes the time to relax and watch them.  When little Rinji is finally exhausted and put down for his morning nap, Sasuke decides it’s finally time to get the day underway.  Despite Karin’s scolding about his tardiness, he still manages to make her smile and steal a few kisses before he leaves.

            He is greeted by the angry shouts of his cute little genin, who don’t look happy about having been made to wait so long.  Their packs and gear kits, however, look lighter than they should be and Sasuke fights the urge to grin as he pulls out the alarm clock and the bells.  It seems his cute little genin have been busy preparing a trap for him.  Oh, this he _has_ to see.

            Sasuke gives them the rules of the exercise, almost exactly as he remembers Kakashi-sensei giving them, and sets the clock while the children scatter for cover.  He does not pursue them - he wants to see what they’ve cooked up first.

            He pulls out a copy of Icha Icha Paradise, and opens it up to the page he’d last left off on, smirking as he notes the muffled gasp from the bushes nearby.  So, his cute genin had the sense to try and jump him from his blind spot.  Their stealth work, however, clearly is in need of dire attention.

            Sasuke keeps his back to them as he sits down on a fallen log, smiling to himself as he listens to them follow.  There’s a rustle, an exhalation of breath as feet shift, and then he hears Saigan’s shout, rapidly followed by an electric crackle.

            A simple replacement leaves the loudmouthed Saigan attempting to correct his trajectory in midair, but the boy is unable to compensate for the heavy iron club he wields, and is sent sprawling into the path of his teammate’s lightning jutsu.

            Sasuke considers it fortunate that the technique is only a mild one, though he has to admit the boy has a rather colorful vocabulary for a kid and can’t help cracking a smile.

            The next attack is a clear attempt to drive him into the woods – no doubt, their trap is nearby – and he allows it for now.  He easily blocks the Academy taijutsu combo Saitou tries on him and counters with one of his own moves, sending the arrogant boy careening through the bushes as if he were little more than a pesky fly and leaving him face-to-face with Tamaki, the leader of their little outfit.  She attacks, punctuating each strike with senbon, and he notes with some amusement that she was able to immediately compensate for the defeat of her teammate, varying the strikes just enough to be annoying.  A simple textbook genjutsu sends her into hysterics.

            Saitou and Saigan both crash out of the bushes and charge, the former slamming through handseals for another lightning jutsu and the latter winding up for another go with that ogre club of his.

            “What did you do to her?” Saigan shouts, swinging wildly with the club. Really, he needs to work on his technique.  Just swinging it around and hoping to connect isn’t good enough.

            “Shinobi use three arts in combat,” Sasuke replies.  He switches himself with a transformed log and drops behind them, watching as the replacement gets hit with the other boy’s lightning jutsu and propelled into the trap. Before they even have a chance to realize he’s made the switch, he pins Saigan and uses a low-level wind jutsu to blast Saitou into a tree, stunning him.

            “These arts are genjutsu,” he continues, indicating Tamaki’s twitching form, “Taijutsu and ninjutsu, which I see one of you is already familiar with.”

            In the distance, Sasuke can hear the buzzer sound and sighs.

            Ten minutes later, the three genin are sitting back in the clearing, tied to the logs near the monument.

            “Do you know why you failed?” he asks.

            Saitou is the first to respond.  “You’re a jounin.  You’re much more skilled than we anticipated.”

            Tamaki, surprisingly, butts in.  “It doesn’t matter!  We won’t give up! Next time, our plan will be better and we’ll show you!”

            “Yeah, yeah!” Saigan the loudmouth pipes up, easily matching her anger with sheer enthusiasm.

            Sasuke can’t help smiling.  They really do have no idea what they’re facing with him, but they sure have determination in spades.  Ah, to be young and stupid!  “Is that so?”

            “Of course,” Saitou says, a smirk crooking his lips as his teammates look at him expectantly.  “We’re a team.  We underestimated you this time, but we won’t do it again.”

            “And what about the bells?” Sasuke asks.

            “Screw the bells!” Tamaki shouts, her eyes blazing.  “We don’t need stupid bells to tell us if our team is worthy!  We’ll pass, all of us, because we’re a team now and there’s no going back!  We all move forward together or not at all!”

            There is a long silence as they stare defiantly up at him.

            “You...” Sasuke breathes, tossing on a little killing intent to watch them squirm.  The desired effect achieved, he lets it go and smiles beatifically, giving them a simple thumbs up.  “PASS!”

            The three genin stare at him, slack-jawed, their brains still catching up.

            Oh wow, Sasuke thinks.  If those were the types of faces he, Naruto and Sakura were making seven years ago, it was a wonder Kakashi-sensei was able to keep a straight face.

            “What the hell?” Saigan shouts, squirming against the ropes.

            Sasuke smiles – yeah, he remembers Naruto saying something similar back then – and, at last, explains, “The last team I tested just did exactly what I told them to do the entire time.  They each came after me for the bells on their own and refused to cooperate with each other. The three of you, from the very start, worked together to try and take me down, ignoring the bells.  You had a plan – it didn’t work, but you still had it – and used it to try and even the odds between us.”

            Pausing, he moves closer to the monument and continues, “I’ll admit I was pleasantly surprised you took the initiative to work together last night and come up with something.”

            “You saw that?” Tamaki gasps in horror.  “No wonder it didn’t work!”

            “Don’t flatter yourselves,” Sasuke says blandly.  “You’re genin, fresh out of the Academy.  I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have.”

            The stoic Saitou murmurs something barely audible about knowing they should have done some research into their sensei’s background.

            “Point is, the three of you achieved the true objective of the test without any encouragement or realizing what that objective was,” Sasuke continues.  “This test is designed to divide teams against a superior opponent with a false objective.  The three of you didn’t let the objective break your plan or split you up.”

            It satisfies him when he sees their eyes rivet on the bells in dawning comprehension and he adds, “You see, teamwork is the most important aspect of being a ninja, even more than individual strength, and forms the backbone of Konoha’s defense.  Without being told, you realized this, even if your underlying motives were... rather childish.”

            Tamaki, realizing the comment was directed at her, blushes brightly.  He doubts she’s sorry, though.  She’s too proud for that.

            “Tell me,” Sasuke says, his hand lingering on the monument, “What do you know about this monument?”

            Saigan is the one who answers this time, his face unusually somber: “It’s a monument to the dead.”

            That’s right.  These three were survivors of the Battle for Konoha.  Death and loss were not strangers to them. He doesn’t doubt he’ll find the names of their parents inscribed on the stone if he looks closely.

            “All these people,” Sasuke sighs, his fingertips resting on the kanji of a familiar name.  “Do you know what they died for?  Why they gave up their lives to protect this place?”

            The genin only stare at him quietly, their faces grim.

            Sasuke approaches them, cuts them free, and says, “Follow me.”

            They follow him back into Konoha proper, into the residential district, and down winding streets to his apartment.  Karin greets him at the door and invites them in, watching curiously as the three genin pull off their sandals and stand awkwardly in their kitchen.  Sasuke tells them to wait there before disappearing down the hall to pick up his son and returns to the kitchen, careful not to wake him.

            “This,” he says, showing Rinji to them, “This is what they died to protect: the future generation of Konoha.  Do you understand now?”

            Tamaki is immediately drawn to the baby, but her hand pauses and she draws back, uncertainly.

            Saitou is silent, his eyes unfathomable as he examines the baby.

            “I understand,” Saigan says and, with uncharacteristic gentleness, reaches out to take the baby from Sasuke’s arms.  The genin smiles sadly: “I have a little brother that’s about the same age.  He’s all I got left.”

            The boy’s face then split into a wide impish grin, not unlike Naruto’s.  “Don’t worry, Sasuke-sensei!  We’ll get stronger and protect our precious people for sure!”

            The other two roll their eyes at the loudmouth and Rinji burbles, squirming a little, but remaining sound asleep.

            “Well, then,” Sasuke says, straightening up.  “Team Four is officially active for duty.  Tomorrow, we’ll begin for real.”

            A part of him can’t wait to rub the fact they passed (and in record time, no less) in Naruto’s face.  But, for now, they were going to sit and eat lunch as a team.  Tomorrow would come soon enough.

            “Welcome to the family,” Karin says, smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's where I really go in on the parallels with Sasuke's cute hellions. Each of his three students represents a call-back to the original Team 7 and Sasuke's awareness of this is meant to show how much he's matured. At the same time, you can clearly see that there are differences in their personalities and social interactions that make his new team more likely to surpass the previous generation in their own ways.
> 
> Saitou, while the Sasuke parallel and initially standoffish and pegged as arrogant, does participate with his teammates and will work with them.
> 
> Tamaki, as a parallel to Sakura, is in many ways her opposite too. She's loud, confident and aggressive where Sakura wasn't at the same age. Yet, she's also, as Sasuke observes and later demonstrates, one of the physically weakest on the team.
> 
> Saigan is the parallel to Naruto. He's loud, stubborn, and seemingly the idiot, but is revealed to have the deepest understanding of what Sasuke is trying to impart.
> 
> Saitou Shirogane, Tamaki, and Saigan Kimagazaki all share a common bond of familial loss due to war and are all survivors of a horrific conflict. Sasuke and Karin both also share this bond, both with themselves and with the three genin. It's this sort of baseline "understanding" between them which makes the team more likely to work.


End file.
